


The Red Bra of Courage

by Jude81



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Humor, Lots of Original Characters - Freeform, Smut, did I mention smut?, lots of smut, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 18:38:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5259449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jude81/pseuds/Jude81
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been months since the mountain and Lexa and Clarke have made their peace. But as they begin to move on with each other, Clarke realizes that maybe Lexa isn’t quite as ready as she thought. And does Clarke have the courage to do what is necessary to help Lexa take that step?</p><p>P.S. Happy Ending. This is complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jayenator565](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jayenator565/gifts), [Lordofdeathn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lordofdeathn/gifts), [Vyndanion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vyndanion/gifts), [Mac_Aroni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mac_Aroni/gifts), [WoahSpace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoahSpace/gifts).



> This story is an ode to Jayenator565's story "Princess Did What" which was the inspiration for this little tale. Seriously, you should stop reading this and go read it. It is freaking hilarious!
> 
> This is gifted/dedicated to the Clexakru: Jayenator565 Lordofdeathn Vydanion, Mac_Aroni and Off2Polis You are all wonderful human beings.
> 
> This was supposed to be lots of funny and some smut. Instead it is a little funny and really smutty. I dunno if I should apologize or say you're welcome.

A/N: Like I said, this was inspired by Jayenator565's [Princess Did What](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3792829/chapters/8443099). Go read it. :)

 

She sighed as she stood in front of the window looking out over the sluggish river. The glass in the window was cracked and bubbled, a testament to both durability and resilience. It was nothing short of a miracle that it had survived the bombs, but her view was hazy and warped from the glass, and she pressed her hand against the little bubbles. She idly traced them, smiling at the feel of the curves pressing into the calloused pads of her fingers. Glass was in short supply after the world had ended, and glass had become a symbol of status and even wealth, if there was such a thing in the new world.

She cocked her head when she heard the murmurs outside her door, the steady tapping of hurried feet down the hallways. Breakfast would be ready soon, and she turned from the window to finish dressing, pulling on the dull grey heavy, ripped and stitched jacket. She finished hooking it around her waist and then grabbed her leather boots, stomping her feet down hard into them, perhaps a little harder than necessary. She smirked and then took a deep, shaky breath. She was on a mission today, and she needed to hurry to the market.

She slipped outside the main door, barely managing to avoid Magda, who ran the Heda’s household. Truth be told, she ran Heda also. She was allowed far more freedom than most in their dealings with Heda. Not many were able to slap Heda’s hand with a wooden spoon and live to tell the tale. She chuckled remembering how Lexa had sulked while Magda waved her spoon in her face, effectively shooing her out of the kitchens. Octavia had made the grave error of laughing, and she had suffered the consequences in the training ring that afternoon. She had sported a black eye and various cuts and bruises for a solid week, but she had born each with pride; because Heda herself had a matching black eye.

Clarke smiled and pulled the heavy, scarred door shut behind her. She ambled down the cracked stone steps, impulsively jumping down the last two. She thought she heard a snort, and she turned quickly and smirked at the guard who tipped his head to her.

“Hai, Linus. All quiet?”

“Sha Skai Heda, all is quite. Headed to the market?”

“Sha, Linus.” Clarke nodded, a small smile playing about her lips. She gave him a jaunty wave and beamed when he raised his hand to her. It had taken months for her to get the quiet guard to smile and then wave at her. Not that it could really be called a wave. It was more of a resigned gesture, and acknowledgement of her unbending tenacity. He was smart enough to not fight a losing battle.

“Skai Heda,” she more than recognized that tone, and she came to an abrupt hault. She huffed and turned towards him, her good mood quickly evaporating. She crossed both arms over her chest, already knowing what he was going to say. She rolled her eyes at him.

“What?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” He stared at her, trying to refrain from smiling as the blonde narrowed her eyes. She muttered something unintelligible under her breath. Since when had Linus become passive/aggressive? It was unlike the Trikru to not be blunt and to the point. She scowled harder when she realized that he had probably learned it from her. She glared at him to no avail. It was hard to intimidate a warrior who was literally twice her size, who could fit the top of her head in his palm.

“No, Linus, I’m not forgetting anything.” She smiled as brightly as possible and then quickly turned on her heel, hoping to make a quick escape down the path, only to be interrupted by twin voices.

“Skai Heda.”

“Skai Heda. We are ready.”

She groaned, dropping her head and turned slowly to look at the warriors behind the voices. Kaiden. And with him his twin brother Aiden. Naturally. Where one went, so too went the other. She eyed them carefully, wanting to groan in frustration, but knowing it was probably useless to do so. It would only amuse Aiden.

She decided not to bother to fight it this morning. She knew she was lucky to only have to deal with two guards following her. Heda’s orders. She waved the warriors to follow her, and she headed back down the path that would take her to the market.

***************************

The first blush of dawn was warming the sky in pinks and oranges, and she knew the vendors were already set up in the market. She was still getting used to all that Polis had to offer even after being here for three weeks. And she wasn’t sure she had even seen all that the market had to offer. Every time she stepped foot in it, she was sure that the layout had changed that there were new vendors and new wares. It was a noisy, living, bustling center of activity in Polis, and it ebbed and flowed and wound its way through the city. It was here in the chaos of the market, that she had found a particular measure of peace, and she was anxious to immerse herself in the colorful, riotous bedlam.

She sauntered along, listening to the sounds up ahead. She cocked her head, smiling as she heard people talking loudly, bartering back and forth, the cries of children running about, birds cawing in the sky, and the squeals of what could only be pigs. She quickened her pace, and almost slammed into another body, so intent was she on getting to the market.

“Damn. Clarke. What’s your hurry?”

“Oops. Sorry, O. Wasn’t paying attention I guess.” She gave the brunette a smile who smiled back at her and fell into step with her.

“That’s dangerous, Clarke. You need to always be aware of your surroundings.” Octavia kept stride with Clarke, her eyes ceaselessly moving, cataloguing each person, each sound as they approached the market. She wrapped one hand lightly around the dagger at her hip. It was always a little nerve-wracking first entering the chaotic market. It was loud and noisy, the air heavy with the smells of spices, cooking food, salty fish, day’s old sweat, hanging slabs of freshly butchered meat, and the ever present smell of dust and dirt.

Clarke hesitated for a moment, catching Kaiden fanning out to her side from the corner of her eye. She liked the quiet young man. He was slim, not heavily built like so many of the Trikru. But he was incredibly fast with a blade, and was one of Heda’s best archers. He was also one of the best tree climbers, and he had always been more than willing to scale a tree and pick nuts for Clarke while on hunting trips.

And where Kaiden was slightly shorter than the average warrior, Aiden was inches taller and huskier. His hair was short with small braids, tied off with clay buttons. Kaiden’s hair was longer and fully braided, held back with a leather strips. Aiden winked at her, and Kaiden simply nodded in his quiet, thoughtful way. Truth be told, out of all of Heda’s elite guards, these were two of her favorites. They were smart and strong, and Aiden was prone to at least smiling at her. Sometimes he even told her stories of the days when the Trikru first walked the earth after the bombs.

She turned her head slightly in the other direction and watched as Aiden casually sauntered around the first vendors, weaving his way between the stalls, his right hand gripping the short blade at his waist. He appeared to not be paying any attention to the ebb and flow of the market around him, but Clarke knew nothing had escaped his notice. He turned and faced the entrance, nodding to Clarke and Kaiden.

She stared at the large market in front of her, smiling brightly at the stalls of vendors lining narrow, twisting paths. The dirt was tamped down, and very little grass grew, just a few hearty blades that hadn’t learned to give up yet. Down the hill, she could hear the creaking of boats tied on their moorings and the yelling of the fisherman making deals on the wharves.

She turned and smiled at Octavia, arching an eyebrow asking if she was ready. Octavia chuckled and together they stepped into the market, quickly being swallowed up by vendors stepping from their stalls, their arms filled with strings of garlic, bushels of onions, brightly dyed fabrics, wolf skins from the north, oranges from the south, jewelry from the west, steel blades from Polis; and the vendors never stopped; jostling each other in competition as they attempted to draw the attention of the women.

Kaiden followed closely behind and to the right, and Aiden took up position a few steps ahead of them to the left. Their eyes never stopped scanning, prodding at those who stumbled a little too close to the group.

Clarke nodded her head politely to the vendors but forged on ahead, sliding between bodies, ducking under overhanging tarps, and wiggling her way around corners. She was on a mission, as she pushed through the crowds, her eyes scanning for one particular shop. She finally found what she was looking for and ducked into the long ramshackle building.

It had been built before the bombs with large stones, but had since been patched in mud and straw, and propped up with logs. Vine crept through the cracks in the stones, pushing and cutting their way up the side of the building. It listed slightly to the side, and despite her original misgivings at walking into what appeared to be a death trap; it still stood the test of time. Mac, one of her fellow adventurers in the market, had assured her on more than one occasion that she had nothing to fear from the building. It had withstood the bombs, and it would withstand Clarke and her klutzy feet. That comment had earned him a hard slap on his bicep, to which he simply grinned unrepentantly at her. She chuckled at the memory, but quickly refocused her attention. She didn’t have much time left.

She breathed in deeply as she stepped through the door, letting her eyes adjust to the low lighting. Several lanterns were hanging from the long beam that ran lengthwise down the middle of the building. There were three shops on each side of the building, each closed off from the other. She walked down to the last shop on the right and hesitated outside the door. She bit her lip nervously, and glanced back at Kaiden who was checking out each shop on the left and Aiden on the right, to make sure nothing or anyone unusual was lurking about.

She glanced at Octavia, wondering how she could get rid of her. “So, you can stay out here,” she gestured lamely to the open space between the two rows of shop. “This will only take a minute, and I’m sure you will be bored.”

“Excuse me?” Octavia crossed her arms over her chest, glowering at the blonde. “Did you really just try to get rid of me?” She snorted and let her arms drop, feeling more than a little irritated. She glanced at the shop, not understanding what was so special about it. It was small with one large window in front, with a plain wooden door to the right of it. She eyed the various goods in the window, her brows furrowing at the eclectic mix of well…junk. She thought a number of items might have been from before the war, but they appeared rusted, and some were definitely broken. She glanced up at the faded lettering on the window “Jay’s Emporium.”

She glanced back at Clarke, ready to give her the third-degree; but the blonde wouldn’t look at her. Her mouth dropped open a little when she saw the flush climbing up the pale neck and blossoming across pale cheeks. She grinned wickedly. Oh this was too much.

“So….” She waited for Clarke to turn and look at her, but the blonde still refused. “Sooooooooo…” she laughed. “You gonna tell me why you are as red as a….um…what are they called again?”

Clarke stared blankly at Octavia for a moment. “What do you mean?”

Octavia huffed and waved her hands around a little, “You know what I mean. Those shell creatures that the Boat Clan catches…” She groaned when Clarke still looked at her uncomprehendingly. “Yeah…you boil them, and they turn bright red.”

Octavia groaned when Clarke shook her head. “Come on, Clarke, you know what I mean! They have claw thingies that pinch you.” She held up both hands and started imitating a pinching motion with her thumb and fingers, repeatedly holding them together. She waved her arms around gesticulating rapidly. “Clarke! You know what I mean?”

“Octavia kom Skaikru y Trikru, are you well?” Octavia froze in mid pinching motion and rolled her eyes up and to the side to see a concerned Kaiden looking expectantly at her.

Octavia swiveled her head around when she heard a muffled snort, and her eyes narrowed at the smirk on Clarke’s face and the smile twitching along Aiden’s mouth.

“Damnit, Clarke,” she growled at her; and Clarke burst out laughing, not able to contain her glee anymore. Aiden looked away, in an effort to not laugh also, and Kaiden just shook his head at their antics.

“It is clear, Skai Heda.”

“Thank you, Kaiden.”

“I will take the front of the building, Kaiden you take the back. Just whistle when you are ready, Skai Heda.”

Clarke nodded and reached for the door of the shop when Octavia grabbed her arm.

“You didn’t answer my question, Clarke.

Clarke huffed in irritation, refusing to look at Octavia. “Lobsters. They are called lobsters, and no, I am not telling you why you can’t come in.”

“Well, you’re shit out of luck, Clarke, ‘cuz I’m not leaving.” Octavia laughed again and jerked open the door, walking into the shop. She still held the door out behind her and looked at Clarke with a raised eyebrow, “Well? You coming?”

“Ugh,” growled Clarke, throwing her hands up in the air. She stomped over to the door, ripping it out of Octavia’s grasp, who only chuckled at her. Octavia was still laughing when Clarke stomped by her in a huff, but her laughter stopped almost immediately when the door closed behind her, and she finally turned her attention to the small shop.

Every nook and cranny was packed with items, many from before the war. She heard a faint buzzing sound, and she looked up, her eyes opening wide in wonder. She knew her mouth was probably hanging open a little, but she didn’t care. There were things hanging from strings buzzing around in circles. She stepped closer, her neck craned all the way back as she stared. It took her a moment to recognize them, but she gasped out loud in delight.

“Planes, Clarke! Planes!” She laughed and pointed excitedly at the small, metal planes that continued to buzz and whir. Their paint was faded in chipped, and some had dents and scratches, but they were beautiful. She had only ever seen one picture of a plane, and it was nothing compared to the small toys weaving circles above her head.

Clarke looked up and laughed. “Yup. Planes. She also has some trains around here too.”

“Trains!” Octavia practically squealed, her attention now torn from the planes. She grabbed Clarke’s arms, barely refraining from shaking her “Oh gai! Where? Where, Clarke?!” She looked around excitedly, her gleaming eyes trying to soak it all in: china dolls with faded silk dresses; small shelves crammed with old, dusty books; tables filled with statues of horses and bears and other animals she had never seen before; a large contraption with two wheels and what looked like a very uncomfortable seat; and hundreds of more items she had yet to identify.

Clarke laughed and pushed Octavia’s hands off her arms. She gestured over to the window, “I think it is set up over there.”

Octavia turned excitedly, and then she heard it: a soft chug and hoot; and she covered the distance in a few strides, knocking over a few items in her haste. She threw herself down to her knees staring in awe at the small train that chugged its way around a railroad track. It was made of metal, and perhaps one time it had been black and red, but now it was mostly grey, as most of the paint had chipped off. It had a little dent in its side, and one of its cars was missing a wheel; but it was beautiful.

She felt her eyes fill with tears for a brief moment, remembering all those years ago when Bellamy had read to her from a book about trains. It was one of the few books available in the library on the Ark. Bellamy had brought it home one night and read it to her; and she had loved it. She had cried when Bellamy had returned it, but then one day he came home and presented her with a new book. Its binding was made of string, and the pages were cut uneven. The pictures weren’t quite the same, but it was hers. She learned later that Bellamy had saved his rations for weeks and sold them on the underground market for pieces of paper, string, and little bits of paint. He had painstakingly copied every single word from the book, and painted every single picture, spending hours trying to get the detailing on the pictures correct. And he gave it to her for no reason, other than he loved her, and couldn’t bear for her not to have something to call her own. She had treasured that little book, and she would hold it to her chest while she lay under the floor, imagining what it would be like to be a little blue train chugging her way up the hill, “I think I can; I can think I can; I think I can.” She used to chant it to herself in her head when the walls closed in around her, and the air grew too thin under the floor.

She shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes, and gingerly reached out and touched the train, smiling at the feel of the cool metal against her fingertips. She slouched low, her eyes almost level with the tracks, and she simply watched as it went around and around, chugging and tooting.

Clarke smiled and turned her attention back to the front of the store. She walked up to the broken counter leaning against it, trying to peer into the small back room. She knew she was back there, but she just shrugged; knowing Jay would come out when she was ready. She cast a quick look back at Octavia, relieved that she was absorbed in the train. She walked over to an old, dark armoire. At least that was what Jay called it. She opened it, smiling at the sight of the brightly colored clothes hanging neatly from pegs and racks. She bit her lip, stepping back and peering over at Octavia again; feeling a little more than relieved that she was still absorbed in the train.

“We meet again, Skai Clarke.”

Clarke barely suppressed her yelp as she banged her head against the side of the open armoire door.

“Yeesh, Mac! You startled me!” Clarke rubbed her head, hoping a bump wouldn’t form. “Stupid armoire,” she muttered as she stepped back and turned to face the smiling young man. She rolled her eyes but smiled at the dark haired man with warm eyes.

Mac nodded, not bothering to suppress his mirth at the slightly scowling blonde. “Perhaps you should have been paying better attention, Skai Clarke. It isn’t good to let an armoire get the drop on you.” He gestured to the armoire, “Everyone knows how vicious they can be,” he smirked at the blonde.

Clarke grumbled at the teasing but couldn’t help but laugh, “Sha. I guess I’m no match for the mighty wood!” When Mac looked at her in confusion, Clarke gestured lamely in the air not sure how to explain herself, “I mean…eh…whatever.”

Mac stared quietly for a moment at the girl. She was unusual, like all the Skaikru; but he liked her. They had met in the market soon after she had arrived in Polis, and it was he who had first brought her to Jay’s.

“So…where is Jay?”

“What’s wrong? Am I not enough for you, Clarke?” he teased quietly, laughing when she smacked him on the arm.

“Oh shush, Mac! Seriously where is Jay? I need to ask her something.”

“I’m right here, Clarke.”

Clarke yelped, jumping slightly in the air. She grabbed at her chest, cursing under her breath. “What the hell, Jay! What is it with you, Trikru? Seriously, give a girl some warning! I should put a bell on you!”

Jay smirked slightly, shaking her head at the Skai Girl. Wait a bell? “I don’t think a bell would make you hear me, Clarke. You are still very loud when you walk.”

“Hey,” she muttered indignantly, “I’m getting better!” Jay stared at her in amusement. It was a well-known fact that a few days after arriving in Polis, Heda had taken her on a hunt, and not only had the Skai Girl managed to scare away all the game, but she had walked into a tree and cut her eyebrow. It had required three stitches from Nyko.

Heda had been completely flabbergasted, questioning how Clarke had managed to survive for weeks on her own in the woods all those months ago. Clarke had simply huffed at her, refusing to tell her that the reason she had walked into the tree was because she had been distracted by a very shapely bottom in tight leather hunting pants. But she had inadvertently told Jay while digging through Jay’s treasures, and Jay had kept her secret, pretending that she hadn’t understood when Clarke had blurted out her secret. She was rather proud of herself for not even telling Mac, who would have teased the Skai Girl mercilessly.

Jay simply nodded, choosing to ignore the blonde’s eye roll. The girl was certainly strange. Different. She had created such a havoc in Polis upon her arrival, and the citizens hadn’t quite known what to make of the girl who openly both smiled and glared at Heda whenever she chose. But she was intelligent and funny; and she liked to listen to Jay talk about her treasures; so Jay couldn’t help but be pleased.

She waved Mac away, who ambled off mumbling something about going to see Aiden. She glanced over and behind Clarke, gesturing towards Octavia.

“Oh, that is Octavia,” and Clarke knew she didn’t need to continue as Jay nodded, having heard of the tales of the girl who lived under a floor, and became a great Trikru warrior.

“Did you want to buy or barter for something, Clarke?” Jay grasped the door of the armoire, leaning against it slightly, not invading Clarke’s space, but still close enough to be a gentle reminder for Clarke to tell her what she wanted.

“Oh…um…yes.” Clarke chewed on her lower lip nervously, trying desperately to fight the blush that was crawling up her cheeks. But she knew it was a losing battle. She took a deep breath. She could do this. It was no different than buying a sword or book in the market. Except that this meant something more than a book or sword. This was for Lexa, and she was still unsure of what Lexa’s reaction would be.

She quieted her nerves and reached behind the clothes, and grasped the package, slowly drawing it out. It was heavily wrapped in parchment and twine, but she knew exactly what was in it. She had been curious about it before, and Jay had let her open the package and examine the items for herself. Yes, they were perfect. Exactly what she needed for the final steps of her plan.

Jay smiled knowingly. She had had a feeling that the blonde would be back for it; and she had kept it behind the counter; but when Mac had told her that the blonde was on her way to see her; she had placed it back in the armoire.

Jay gently took the package smiling softly, “A good choice, Skai Clarke.”

Clarke blushed again and nodded her head. She followed Jay to the counter; reaching in to her pocket and pulling out two leather bags and setting them down with a clunk. “You said you were looking for these, and I finally found some. Traded a couple of fox pelts for them.”

Jay smiled eagerly, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened one of the leather bags. She laughed and let the small glass balls fall out into her palm. They were all different colors and sizes, with bright swirls of color buried deep in the glass.

“Ah, Skai Clarke! These are perfect, but they are worth more than this,” she gestured towards the package.

“Oh…well…that’s ok. Just take them.” Clarke put her hand on the package ready to take it and go, but Jay vehemently shook her head. “No, a deal is only honored when something of worth is traded for something of equal value.” She stared thoughtfully around the room filled with her treasures, wondering what else she could offer; when her eyes landed on the brunette who was still kneeling in front of the train.

Jay put her hand on the package, “This,” and she hefted the leather sack in her other hand, “for this,” and she gestured with the sack towards Octavia, “and for that.” She waited patiently for Clarke to accept the deal.

“Jay, I think that is too much.”

“No. Your package and the train for the glass balls.” She set the sack down and offered her arm to Clarke expectantly.

Clarke smiled and grasped Jay’s arm in a warrior’s grip. “Deal!” She grabbed the package, waved to Jay and head back to Octavia.

“Come on, O. Time to go.”

“O. O!”

“Octavia Blake!”

Octavia finally managed to tear her wide eyes from the train and stare in confusion and then sadness at Clarke. “Oh. Right.” She awkwardly scrambled to her feet, slightly appalled by the sad ache in her chest. She bit her lip, and then shook her shoulders back. She was a damn Trikru warrior and it was just a toy! Except she suddenly felt that familiar cold, longing in her chest that had been her constant companion under the floor.

Clarke smiled gently at her and reached out grabbing Octavia’s satchel. She flipped open the top, and then grabbed the train. She pulled the top off and emptied out the water. She carefully wrapped it an old piece of cloth Jay had given her, and placed it in Octavia’s bag.

“B-but…what are you doing, Clarke?” She stuttered in bewilderment as she watched Clarke quickly disassemble the tracks, wrapping each one and placing it in her satchel. She couldn’t help but feel the burst of warmth in her chest though.

“It was part of the deal I made with Jay,” she looked up into the younger girl’s wide eyes. “It’s for you, Octavia. It’s yours.”

Octavia raised her hands quickly, “I can’t, Clarke.”

“You can. And you will. I’m the Skai Heda, and I have so ordered it.” Clarke flipped the top of the satchel down and patted the side. “Stop arguing. Come on, time to go.” She gestured to Octavia to follow her, and she turned back around waving to Jay who returned her wave and then disappeared into the back room.

Octavia just shook her head and smiled, knowing better than to argue, and not really wanting to argue anyway. She smiled excitedly, patting the side of the bulging satchel. She couldn’t wait to show Bellamy!


	2. Chapter 2: Smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is an ode to Jayenator565's story "Princess Did What" which was the inspiration for this little tale. Seriously, you should stop reading this and go read it. It is freaking hilarious!
> 
> This is gifted/dedicated to the Clexakru: Jayenator565 Lordofdeathn Vydanion, Mac_Aroni and Off2Polis You are all wonderful human beings.
> 
> This was supposed to be lots of funny and some smut. Instead it is a little funny and really smutty. I dunno if I should apologize or say you're welcome.

Clarke stood in front of the small mirror. It had a crack running down one side, but it was the best she could do. The evening meal was long past, and she knew Lexa would be coming through the doors any moment. She eyed herself critically, pulling at the front of her clothing, trying to adjust it, so it was in a more pleasing position. She turned to the side and then the back, craning her head around trying to see how it fit. She winced a little as she shuffled around. It wasn’t particularly comfortable. She didn’t think it was supposed to be, that wasn’t the purpose.

She slid her hands down the thin fabric, wincing slightly when her hands scraped across the delicate embroidery. She smiled ruefully at her palms as she held them up, examining the light callouses on them. She shrugged. They were the hands of a warrior, a leader who was building a new world. Soft hands were a luxury of the weak.

She stared again at herself, biting her lip nervously. She had run out of ideas on how to deal with Lexa, and then she had accidentally stumbled across this little item in Jay’s shop. She had been so shocked to see it, but excited too. It hadn’t occurred to her that something like this would have survived the war in such perfect condition for so many years. She had it on good authority that the Trikru didn’t wear anything quite like this. Her spine had tingled and warmth had pooled in her belly at the thought of what Lexa might think about it. What she would think about Clarke wearing it. For Lexa.

She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and then inhaling deeply again. Anticipation curled in her belly, and her palms were slightly damp. She smoothed her hands down her sides, her fingers lingering on her hips. It was red. Bright, deep, golden red. It was the color of power, of leadership, of blood, and aching want. It was Lexa’s color, and she was wearing it for her. She smiled at the thought, her nerves steadying, the slight fear fading away. She snorted lightly at finding her courage again. She looked damn good in it, and she knew Lexa would think so too. She had seen how Lexa had looked at her. Had been looking at her for months now.

They had made their peace months ago, and had slowly become friends again, and then something more. She wasn’t entirely sure what yet, but she couldn’t deny that her breath quickened when Lexa smirked at her, or her heart ached when she saw tired, resigned resolve in Lexa’s eyes, and her belly tingled when Lexa’s eyes darkened. She was the first person she thought of in the morning and the last at night.

There had been a few kisses, awkward fumbles; and two weeks ago; a rather intense scene in Lexa’s war room that had left her breathless and aching with bruised lips and uncomfortably wet shorts. But then after that, nothing. Lexa had made it a point of avoiding her; but Clarke could still feel the weight of her heated stare sliding across her skin; but every time she tried to talk to Lexa about anything beyond their alliance; Lexa sidestepped and found excuses to leave.

But not tonight. Tonight, she was in the lion’s den; and she hoped the lion wouldn’t, couldn’t refuse her offer. She was done playing games and chasing after Lexa. No, tonight she had brought the confrontation to Lexa’s sanctuary, her bedroom. Truth be told, she had been more than a little surprised that Patric had let her in. He was one of Heda’s personal guards and Aiden and Kaiden’s cousin. She had thought she would have to convince him to let her in, but he had simply nodded at her and opened the door for her. What she didn’t see was his knowing smile when he closed the door.

**************************

Lexa was exhausted despite the relatively early hour. She had been in meetings all day, arguing with the leaders of the Horse Clan and Plains Clan over grazing rights. She had been tempted more than once, to simply cut out both their tongues so she wouldn’t have to listen to their petty squabbles any more. But the Horse Clan was allied to the River Clan through marriage, and the River Clan was allied to the Boat Clan through blood and necessity; and she knew Luna would be less than pleased to have to listen to the whining and grumbling of the River Clan if she did something to the leader of the Horse. Ugh. She hated politics.

She walked down the quiet hallway, nodding to the various guards who tipped their heads respectfully as she passed. Her footsteps slowed and then dragged as she neared Clarke’s door. She wanted to stop and knock on the door, but she was too worried about just how much she desperately missed the blonde. She had been avoiding her since the incident in the war room, when she had allowed herself to get too caught up in the heat of Clarke’s mouth and the press of her body against her own.

She had told herself that now wasn’t the time for such distractions, but as Magda had so helpfully pointed out, when was there ever a good time for love in this world. Life was short, too short here on the ground; and Magda had waved her spoon in Lexa’s face telling her to stop behaving like a foolish strikon; and to grab at happiness when it presented itself. Magda didn’t need to point out that happiness was one Clarke Kom Skaikru en Kom Trikru; but she helpfully pointed it out nevertheless. She accompanied her “help” with a stern rap of her spoon against Lexa’s sternum and a tightly lipped harrumph, before she had stalked off back to tend to her soup.

Lexa bit back a chuckle at the thought of Magda’s righteous indignation over Lexa’s behavior. But truth was, she was afraid. Afraid of what it would mean to lose Clarke. She had barely survived Costia’s death, and she trembled at the thought of her inevitable ruination if Clarke were ever taken from her. It had been Kaiden with his quiet strength who simply said, “I wish I had had more time.” He didn’t need to say more. She had heard loud and clear what he had left unsaid.

She hesitated briefly outside Clarke’s door, debating going in, but she didn’t see a faint glow under the door from candles that would have told her the blonde was still up, probably reading or sketching. She frowned at the ache in her chest, and turned abruptly from the door, nodding to Aiden and Gabrielas, Aiden’s Seken.

Gabrielas tipped her head, meeting Lexa’s eyes. It was rare for a Seken to be so bold, to meet her gaze so steadily, so confidently. But there was nothing ordinary about the girl. Aiden had stumbled across her years ago, dressed in rags, her eyes too large for her face, her skin drawn too tight across her bony limbs. She was limping determinedly through the forest, ten days away from a burned out village that still smoldered from an attack by the Horse Clan. She had nothing but a sharpened stick to defend herself against predators and a brutal will to survive.

Aiden hadn’t recognized her, and when he had asked her who she was and where she was headed, she had eyed him calmly and simply replied that she was off to Polis to see the Heda, and then she had walked right on by him, headed towards Polis. He hadn’t bothered to question her further. He had simply walked with her the rest of the way to Polis, and they had walked together ever since.

She nodded again at Aiden and Gabrielas, letting her lips twitch slightly in acknowledgement of the unparalleled trust in them. She continued on her way, stopping at her own door, three down from Clarke’s. She nodded at Patric who smiled mischievously at her. She groaned wondering what he had been up to now. Sometimes the only thing that saved him was the fact that he was her brother. Perhaps not by blood, but Magda was his mother; and Magda had basically raised her when she came to Polis at the age of eight. Anya had helped raise her too, as had Gustus; but it had been Magda with the mother’s heart and touch that Lexa had needed when her own family had perished.

“Do I even want to know, Pat?” She eyed the handsome young man, taking him in at a glance. As usual, his light brown hair was swept all the way back from his forehead, and his head was shaved on all sides. He didn’t bother with braids as was typical of most warriors. No, he was insistent that his hair style suited him just fine, and she had to agree. She jerked herself from her thoughts, when he simply shook his head, but she caught the gleam in his eye; and she was too tired to press him for details.

“No, Heda. Enjoy your night,” and he returned to facing the hallway away from her prying look. She groaned again and opened the door and then closed it behind her with her foot as she entered the room. She was so busy, already unbuttoning her coat that it took the briefest moment to register that she wasn’t alone.

She tensed, grabbing her dagger, her lips pulled back in a snarl as she crouched down ready to face her attacker. But she froze at the soft gasp, and her vision was suddenly filled with lightly tanned flesh, long blonde hair, and anxious blue eyes.

“Kl-Klark?” She asked stupidly as she slowly straightened, her dagger still clutched in her hand. Her eyes widened at the sight of the other girl. She was…naked. Except she wasn’t. She was wearing something. Something that did very little to cover the other girl’s flesh. Beautiful, glorious flesh. She knew she must look like an idiot starting stupidly at the blonde, breathing hard, her mouth open.

“Hi.” Clarke chewed nervously on her lower lip again and then gathered her courage, “Do you like?” She whispered as she gestured down her body, drawing the brunette’s eyes to her torso.

“Do I…I…?” Lexa swallowed hard against the dry, scratchiness in her throat. She wasn’t too surprised that her voice sounded more like the croak of a dying man, due to the fact that all the moisture in her mouth and in her body had fled south at the sight of Clarke in the small pieces of clothing.

“Sha, Klark,” she breathed out. “I like.” She smiled, her eyes anxiously roving over Clarke’s body, desperately trying to breathe it all in before the girl covered herself. Covered herself. Damn. Lexa quickly shoved the dagger back into her belt, quickly clamping a hand over her eyes. She turned her back on Clarke to give her some privacy.

“I…I’m sorry, Klark. I didn’t mean to burst in on you,” but even as she said it; she wondered why she was apologizing since this was her room, and not Clarke’s. She swallowed hard, visions of soft curves dancing through her mind. She started for the door, “I will just leave you be to put your clothing on.”

“Lexa, wait!”

But Lexa was already through the door. She closed it tightly behind her and leaned back against it, breathing heavily. Her belly felt heavy, and her muscles ached; and she wanted nothing more than to turn around and walk back through that door. She sighed heavily, her head hanging low, her chest aching.

“She’s a big girl, Lexa. She knows what she’s doing.” Her head whipped up, and she glared at Patric who simply stared straight ahead. “She knows exactly what she’s doing.” He stressed the word ‘exactly’ hoping she would get the hint.

Lexa stood up sharply, eyeing Patric. She could see the barest hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. She looked back at the door. Did she dare? She licked her lips.

“Exactly?” She didn’t bother to look at him, instead concentrating on the door, her hand on the knob.

“Exactly.” He said confidently, and that was all she needed. She opened the door slowly, peeking around the corner, much like a strikon trying to sneak out of the house. She bit her lip when she saw the blonde sitting slumped on her bed, her head in her hands.

She slipped around the door and walked over to the bed. She stood in front of the girl, knowing she must know she was there.

“Klark.” She waited, but Clarke just ignored her.

“Klark, why are you here,” she wanted to hear Clarke say it, so there was no mistake.

Clarke laughed mirthlessly in her hands, finally letting them drop. She finally looked up at Lexa with wet blue eyes. “Why do you think I’m here, Lexa?” She gestured around the room, but the brunette kept her mouth shut. Typical.

“Fine,” she huffed out. “I’m here, because I thought I could get you to acknowledge me.” She huffed again when the brunette simply arched an eyebrow in disbelief. “Ok, fine. I’m here, because…I…I miss you,” she whispered. She felt one tear manage to escape, and she grit her teeth flicking it away with a finger. “I miss you, and I hate that you won’t talk to me anymore or even be in the same room with me anymore. I don’t know what I did wrong in the war room, but I thought…I thought we were…I don’t know…” She shoved her hands roughly into her hair. “I thought you and I were something, Lexa. I wanted us to be something; and when I saw this,” she released her hair waving vaguely at her body, “I thought maybe this would get your attention, and maybe it would give me the courage to tell you how I feel.” Her voice shook, and she dropped her head as she whispered, “That I want to be with you. Always.”

Lexa felt her heart clench, even as she also felt it expand in her chest. “It’s beautiful. You are beautiful.” Lexa reached out and tenderly cupped the blonde’s warm, wet cheeks coaxing her up to look at her.

“Oh, Klark,” she whispered as she gently coaxed the younger girl to stand. She slid her arms around her waist, and was more than gratified when Clarke slid her arms around Lexa, nuzzling her face into the other girl’s neck.

“I’m sorry, Klark. I thought I had pushed you too far, and I was ashamed that I had almost lost control in the war room,” whispered Lexa as she pressed her nose into Clarke’s hair, inhaling sharply. She hummed contentedly enjoying Clarke’s warm scent as it lingered in her nostrils.

Clarke pulled back, carefully stepping out of Lexa’s arms, “Maybe I want you to lose control, Leska,” she husked as she slowly took a step back. She let her arms drop, so Lexa could see; and she couldn’t help but blush at the hungry look on the other girl’s face.

Lexa was convinced that Clarke could probably hear the pounding of her heart, perhaps even Patric could hear it from his place on the other side of the heavy door. She could feel it pound harshly against her ribs, and she licked her dry lips, as she simply stared in wonder at the sight in front of her.

“You know, Leska, my eyes are up here,” and Clarke gestured in the general direction of her face, but Lexa refused to raise her avid gaze from Clarke’s torso.

“If you had wanted me to stare at your beautiful face, Klark, you would not have worn this,” she stated as calmly as she could. She stepped forward until there was only a couple of inches between them. She raised her hand, but stopped just shy of touching, and her fingers trembled as they hovered over Clarke’s cleavage. She finally tore her gaze away, and flicked her eyes upward.

“May I?” she murmured hesitantly, holding her breath, suddenly afraid that Clarke would not allow her to touch, to feel, to indulge so blatantly.

“Sha. Touch me. It’s why I wore this.”

Lexa licked her dry lips again, and then let her gaze drop down again, and she moved slowly, letting the tips of her fingers rest on the little ledge of material in front, between her breasts. She gently scraped the tips of her fingers over the swells of flesh, tracing the outline of the material.

“What is this called? We don’t really have anything like it.”

“It’s called a bra, and we had these on the Ark, but not quite so lacy or revealing.” Clarke blushed, and her breath hitched when she saw Lexa’s eyes darken.

“Oh,” she murmured absently as she continued to stroke the rounded curve of Clarke’s breasts, too caught up in the feel of her silky skin against her fingertips to really pay attention to what Clarke was saying. She leaned in and dropped her head, pressing a kiss against between her breasts. Her lips lingered, and she flicked her tongue out, tasting the light golden flesh. She smiled against Clarke’s warm skin when the other girl gasped, and as she stepped closer, wanting to press herself against her, but Clarke stepped back.

Lexa glanced up in confusion, and her brow furrowed with worry, when she realized she might have pushed too far, too much. She swallowed hard, feeling her heart plummet. She licked her lips, her apology trembling on her tongue, as Clarke stepped fully out of her arms and turned her back on her. She gasped in shock.

Clarke stepped away from Lexa, carefully turning her back to her, despite wanting to simply melt in her arms and hold her head to her breasts. But her knees were shaking, and she was afraid she would simply fall down before too long. She walked over to the bed, grinning at the harsh gasp she heard behind her. She stopped next to the bed, turning her head to look behind her. She casually flicked her hair behind her shoulder and smiled at the stunned brunette, “Well? Are you coming?” She winked when Lexa’s mouth dropped open, she and turned back to the bed, placing both hands on it to boost herself up, when she heard the strangled command.

“Stop.” Lexa couldn’t help the strangled groan that escaped her lips. The shorts that Clarke was wearing were not shorts. She wasn’t sure what the name was for them, but they revealed almost everything. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the red strip of fabric that ran between Clarke’s cheeks, and she could feel the heat curling in her belly, and her heart slamming against her ribs.

She had spent an inordinate amount of time wondering what Clarke looked like underneath her clothing, wondering about the bindings and shorts she wore, but nothing had prepared her for this. Her hands twitched, and she grit her teeth trying to control the overwhelming urge to take those few steps and fill her hands with the rounded flesh taunting her.

For once, Clarke had listened without question, and she was still standing still, her back slightly hunched, her hands flat on the bed. She glanced back at Lexa, surprised at the sudden surge of heat between her own legs when Lexa deliberately licked her own lips. She shifted her legs, trying to close them, to relieve the pressure in her sex, without being noticeable about it, but judging by the sudden smirk that crossed Lexa’s plump lips, she had noticed.

Clarke rolled her eyes at Lexa, but smiled and scrunched her nose at her. “Well? Are you coming? Because I would really like to get on this bed, and I don’t want to do it alone.”

Lexa bit her lip and nodded, “Wait. I want to see you,” she husked out, “after all isn’t that the point of this?” She gestured at Clarke, “You want me to look, sha?” She smiled, running her tongue across her teeth, sucking on them lightly, imagining how Clarke would feel in her mouth, taste on her tongue.

“Sha, but maybe you could come over here and look a little harder?” Clarke replied smartly and arched an eyebrow at the brunette, silently challenging her.

Lexa snorted and quickly crossed the remaining steps in a few strides. She pressed herself up against Clarke’s back. She ran her hands down Clarke’s arms, and covered the blonde’s hands with her own. She slipped her fingers between Clarke’s, effectively caging the blonde between her arms. She nuzzled her face into the blonde’s hair, inhaling deeply. She couldn’t help the satisfied sigh that slipped past her lips, and she didn’t particularly care too much.

She pressed harder against Clarke, shivering slightly at the feel of Clarke’s bottom pressing into the cradle of her hips, and she bit her lip hard, when Clarke pressed back into her. This girl would be her undoing, and she no longer cared.

She tightened her fingers around Clarke’s, and nosed through the girl’s hair until she could press her lips against the juncture where her neck met her shoulder. She slid her tongue along the muscle, enjoying the way Clarke trembled in her arms. She sucked at the muscle, pulling it between her teeth and biting, hard enough to leave a mark, but not to hurt her. She quickly soothed the bite with her tongue, enjoying the taste of her fresh, salty skin.

Clarke groaned when she felt Lexa’s teeth sink into her shoulder. The pain was momentary, and she shivered under the wet heat of Lexa’s mouth. She wanted to turn around and press her mouth against the older girl’s, but she couldn’t seem to make her limbs obey. She craned her neck to the side, giving Lexa more access, and she smiled when she felt the girl hum against her flesh. She deliberately pushed back into Lexa’s pelvis, feeling the heavy, rough cloth scrape against her tender flesh. She rubbed herself against Lexa, who let out a strangled gasp, and pushed hard against her, almost pushing her down on to the bed.

Lexa felt the heat rising quickly through her muscles. Too quickly. She reluctantly let go of the flesh in her mouth, feeling a momentary loss as she backed up slightly and breaking contact with Clarke. She smiled at the disappointed growl from the younger girl who straightened and twisted around so she was pressing her front against Lexa.

“Leska, no,” she mumbled as she wrapped her arms tight around the older girl, suddenly afraid that she was going to walk away from her. Again. She pressed tighter against her, refusing to let go, even as she felt Lexa gently grasp her biceps and try to push her away.

“No, Leska,” she growled as she pushed hard into Lexa, her mouth desperately crashing against Lexa’s. She grimaced at the feel of her teeth clacking against Lexa’s, but she didn’t care enough to pull back. She sucked Lexa’s bottom lip between her own, sucking lightly and then harder as she pulled Lexa tighter against herself.

Lexa groaned, letting Clarke push her tongue into her mouth, letting the blonde plunder and take what she wanted. She probably couldn’t have stopped her even if she had tried, or wanted. The kiss was messy, wet, and wanting, and she winced when the girl sucked and nipped too hard; but it was perfect, because it was theirs.

Lexa finally managed to pull back just enough to see the hurt and light flickers of anger swirling in the dark blue eyes. “Wait, Klark,” she smiled and pressed her lips against Clarke’s quickly, in an effort to appease her. “Turn around, Klark. I want to touch you.”

Clarke pulled back slightly in surprise. She had thought Lexa was leaving her again, regretting touching her. How wrong she had been. She felt the heat blossom across her cheeks, and she cursed her fair skin when she saw the amusement in Lexa’s eyes. She stared at Lexa for a moment, her eyes searching for something, something she didn’t even have a name for yet. But she found what she was looking for, and she could feel the heavy thump of her heart pressing up against her skin, and she nodded slowly.

She turned around slowly, resuming the position she had been in, and she tensed at the sudden press of Lexa’s hand against her back, slowly, gently pushing her down. She relaxed almost immediately though once she recognized the warm weight of her hand. She let her body fall forward, and she caught herself on her elbows and forearms, letting her head rest against her wrists.

She widened her stance to relieve the pressure on her lower back, and she relaxed as Lexa gently ran her hands up and down her back, painting soothing circles against her flushed skin. She shivered when Lexa gently but firmly pressed her pelvis against her bottom, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth building in her muscles.

Lexa smiled, biting her lip, her eyes dark as she gazed at the expanse of fair skin in front of her. Her vision was broken by the strap of the bra, across Clarke’s back, but she couldn’t complain; after all, it had already offered a very enticing view from the front.

She lightly ground her pelvis into Clarke’s muscular bottom, silently congratulating herself on all those mornings when she dragged Clarke from her bed to run with her, telling her she needed to be stronger. The strong alone survived on earth, and she would do what it took to ensure Clarke’s survival, and her happiness.

She stepped back, her hands tracing little circles on Clarke’s lower back. She drank in the sight of Clarke bent over, her bottom in the air, the little piece of fabric splitting her flesh. She bit her lip hard again, and finally gave in. She slowly sank to her knees, palming the flesh of Clarke’s bottom. She squeezed the flesh between her hands, barely managing to stifle her hum of happiness when Clarke trembled between her hands.

She let go of Clarke’s bottom, turning her attention to the long, strong legs. She ran her hands down the back of her legs, palming the flesh along the way, mapping it, memorizing it. She chuckled when Clarke jumped and jerked forward when her fingertips teased the sensitive skin behind her knee.

“Ticklish, Klark?” She hummed, not waiting for an answer before bending down farther and pressing a soft kiss behind her knee.

Clarke groaned at the feel of the soft lips, “Shof op, Leska.” But she knew Lexa could hear the laughter in her voice, when the brunette chuckled again and lightly bit the skin behind her knee. She groaned at the twinge of pain, and bucked forward slightly at the feel of the hot tongue caressing the nipped area.

Clarke shifted uncomfortably, well aware of just how wet her underwear were now. She wanted to tell Lexa to stop teasing her and simply fuck her, but at the same time she was enjoying the painful anticipation of waiting.

Lexa glanced up from where she was pressing kisses to the back of Clarke’s knees, noting how the girl was shifting. She straightened slightly, her eyes widening when she realized why Clarke was shifting. She smirked and pressed her lips against the bottom swell of Clarke’s bottom. She nipped at the skin, and sucked along the curve.

She grasped Clarke’s hips firmly between her hands as she started shifting more, rolling her hips back. “Stay still, Klark,” she ordered gently but firmly as she continued to press open-mouthed kisses along the curves and swells of her bottom.

“Lesssska!” whined Clarke as she pushed back into Lexa’s mouth. She was rewarded with a growl and light smack to her bottom, and she groaned at the abruptness of it. Her skin was hot and flushed, and she was pretty sure she had ruined the underwear, which was a shame, but it was Lexa’s own damn fault.

Lexa chuckled at Clarke’s whining, but decided she had enough of teasing her any way. She pressed Clarke’s legs wider apart, and shuffled forward, so her shoulders scraped lightly against the skin of the blonde’s legs. She hunched down a little, tilting her head so she could reach her target. She pressed her tongue against Clarke’s sex, and firmly dragged her tongue up, following the line of fabric, pressing firmly. She followed it all the way to the small of Clarke’s back, enjoying the way the girl had briefly tensed when her tongue had slid between her flesh, pressing against her.

Lexa sucked hard on the salty skin of her lower back, her hands digging in to Clarke’s hips. She traced the fabric with her tongue and then slithering her tongue underneath the fabric. She hummed at the feel of the silk flesh and lace of the fabric scraping her tongue at the same time. She pulled back reluctantly, eyeing the sliver of fabric between her cheeks. It was a dark red now, and she felt the anticipation swirl in her belly, and she shifted enjoying the way her pants pressed against her. But there would be time for that later.

She traced the fabric with her finger, pressing down lightly, enjoying the way Clarke tensed. The dark red was alluring, forbidden, calling to her, and she hooked her finger underneath it and gently teased the puckered rosebud with the tip of her finger.

Clarke tensed when she felt Lexa gently prod against her. She hadn’t been expecting that, but she felt something warm settle heavily into her lower abdomen, and she gasped in surprise at the flare of heat running through her hips.

Lexa leaned down, kissing along the inner edge of her cheeks, she turned her head and brushed her cheek lightly against the silky skin. She slipped her finger out from underneath the fabric and slid her hands under Clarke’s hip bone, cradling them in her palms. She pressed her tongue against the fabric again, softly, teasing her gently.

“Is this ok, Klark?” she murmured, pulling back and waiting for Clarke’s reply. She smiled when she heard the shaky “sha” slip from the girl’s lips. She leaned back in, sliding her tongue under the fabric, laving her sensitive flesh. She slid her palms under the edge of panties covering her sex. She let her fingers gently trace the warm flesh. She groaned at the feel of the silky flesh, marveling at the lack of hair. She made a mental note to ask Clarke about it later, but she was quickly distracted by the way that Clarke trembled lightly against her tongue.

She pressed more firmly, groaning when she felt the rosebud give way slightly against her tongue. She wanted to push further, but didn’t want to make Clarke uncomfortable, although she couldn’t help but smile into the younger girl’s flesh at the sound of her murmurs and hums.

She reluctantly pulled back, placing tender kisses on the perfect little blossom. She patted Clarke’s bottom gently when she groaned her disapproval. “Later,” she murmured, “I want to touch you.” She stood up and slid her hands under Clarke’s belly, coaxing her to roll over.

Clarke groaned in disappointment when she felt Lexa’s hot tongue pull back. She had been surprised by the heat that had pushed through her muscles, and her trepidation had quickly melted away under the gentle, wet probing.

But she swallowed her disappointment quickly as she rolled over. She reached up and grabbed Lexa, pulling her down on top of her, chuckling when the girl landed with a grunt on her. She buried her face in Lexa’s neck, breathing in deeply the raw, earthy scent of the other girl. She let herself simply enjoy the weight of her body against her own and the harsh, elated pound of her heart. She reveled in the feel of the warm, strong body pressed against her own, but quickly realized that Lexa was still clothed.

She pushed against Lexa, until she raised herself up slowly on her arms, and Clarke started pulling at her clothing, anxiously trying to pull it off the body, that she could no longer resist, that she wanted to plunder, worship, and mark as her own.

Lexa groaned under her breath, pushing herself up on her knees on the bed. She started pulling off her clothing as quickly as possible, her hands tangling more often than not with Clarke’s. She huffed in frustration as they both tried to pull her shirt over her head. Her arms got tangled in the sleeves, and she growled in frustration, finally just ripping it in two. She tossed it off the side of the bed with a grunt, ignoring Clarke’s muffled snort of laughter.

Clarke chuckled and leaned forward, pressing her lips harshly against the dark gold skin of Lexa’s neck. She nipped at the flesh, enjoying the feel of Lexa’s hands tangling in her hair. She continued to kiss and suckle the skin, dipping lower to lave her tongue in the hollow of her throat. She kept her hands occupied by yanking hard on Lexa’s thick, heavy belts. She slid her fingers under the rough leather, jerking harshly against the ties.

Lexa’s hips jerked hard at the feel of Clarke’s hands on her belt, tugging her firmly against her. She skimmed her fingers down her shoulders, until her fingertips tripped over the back of the bra. She knew this was how it fastened, but her fingers felt stiff and clumsy, and she groaned in irritation as she yanked and pulled at the wide strap, not able to figure out how to open it.

“Klaaark,” she whined, curling her fingers under the strap, and ineffectually pulling at it. She huffed, like a small strikon not getting his way. And she huffed even harder when Clarke laughed at her. “No, Klark. Off. Now.” She punctuated each word with sharp tugs on the bra.

Clarke pulled back and swatted at Lexa’s arms. “Stop tugging so hard, Leska. You’re gonna break it.” She smiled at the pout gracing plump lips, and she rolled her eyes when she heard the muttered “Don’t care.” She kissed the tip of Lexa’s nose, causing the brunette to blush lightly and smile shyly at her. She deftly unhooked it, and let it slowly fall away from her body, enjoying how Lexa’s green eyes darkened and widened as the thin straps slid down her arms.

“Klark,” she breathed out in reverence when the bra finally fell to the bed. She blindly reached down with one hand, refusing to tear her gaze from the beautiful flesh in front of her, and once her hand caught the edge of a strap, she curled her fingers around it, placing it gently to the side so it wouldn’t get crushed.

She gently pushed forward, gently pushing Clarke on to her back. She wiggled her hips against Clarke’s. “Open, Klark,” she whispered as she leaned down, peppering the blonde’s warm skin with kisses. She smiled against the warm flesh, when she felt Clarke open her legs, and she pushed between them, letting her pelvis push against Clarke’s. She held herself up on shaky arms, long enough for Clarke to unwind the cloth binding around her chest. Once it was gone, she let her shaky arms collapse; and she pressed her breasts against Clarke’s.

Clarke ran her hands down the strong back, wanting to map each bump and dip, but not having the patience to do it right then. She hoped there would be time later, but for now, she slid her hands down under Lexa’s pants, boldly cupping the warm, muscled flesh. She bit her lip, her eyes dilating when she heard Lexa’s sigh of surprise.

“Oh. Oh!” Lexa shivered at the feel of the strong hands cupping her bottom, and she buried her face between Clarke’s breasts, kissing and licking enjoying the faint trace of salt on her lips. She reluctantly pulled away and raised up enough so Clarke could push her pants down her bottom, her thighs, and finally kick them off. She rolled to her side, and slipped her hand under Clarke’s panties, sighing in delight at the feel of the warm, smooth skin.

She let her fingers dance across the sensitive skin, tracing the outline of her sex. She bent down and gently kissed along Clarke’s smooth breasts, nipping and kissing occasionally. She licked all around her nipples, passing over them with the tip of her tongue, resisting the urge to draw them into her mouth.

Clarke slipped her hand up into Lexa’s hair, cupping the back of her head. She guided her back to her breasts, “stop teasing,” she muttered, her impatience coloring her voice. She huffed in satisfaction when she felt wet heat envelope her nipple, and she pressed Lexa’s face tighter to her breasts, hoping she wouldn’t suffocate her, but not willing to allow her to pull away.

Lexa suckled gently, while slowly drawing her panties off. She tossed them to the side, and she nudged Clarke’s thighs open with her hand. She slid two fingers between her lips, massaging gently, gathering the wetness on her fingertips and swirling it over her clit. She gasped lightly at the feel of how wet and warm she was, and she wanted to simply sink into her, but she resisted, instead coaxing her open with soft and gentle touches.

“Inside.”

She let her nipple go with a pop, looking up into wide blue eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Sha, Leska. I want to feel you. Against me. All around me,” she blushed and looked Lexa straight in the eye, “inside of me, Leska. I want you inside me.” She pushed up and pressed her mouth against Lexa’s, her tongue scraping across Lexa’s mouth, begging for entrance.

Lexa felt her heart slam against her ribs, and she opened her mouth to the probing tongue, letting it slide against her own. And Clarke pulled a soft groan from her when she sucked her tongue hard, and Lexa gently circled Clarke’s entrance with one finger, while she eagerly returned the girl’s kiss.

She gently eased the tip of her finger inside, unsure of how experience Clarke was, unsure how accustomed she was to being entered and stretched, just knowing she didn’t want to her. She pulled away from Clarke’s eager mouth, kissing and sucking along her jawline, marking her lightly as she gently and slowly pushed her finger inside to the first knuckle.

Clarke tensed at the first feel of Lexa entering her. She had only had one lover in over a year, and that had been one time. She forced herself to relax and nodded her head at Lexa’s worried glance. She pulled her face back down to her own, kissing her hard, whispering against her lips, “It’s ok. Don’t stop.”

Lexa pulled out gently, and then pushed gently back inside, shuddering slightly at the feel of the wet warmth painting her skin. She pushed a little deeper, feeling the warm muscles gently, slowly give way to her, and she smiled in delight. Clarke chuckled at the smile on Lexa’s face, her body starting to adjust to Lexa, and she kissed her again before pushing her face down, silently urging her to pay attention a little lower.

Lexa hummed deep in her chest at the feel of warm, velvet walls clasping around her finger, and she barely refrained from pushing deeper and harder. But she waited for Clarke’s body to adjust to her intrusion. She nuzzled against Clarke’s breasts, and when she felt a hard nipple poke at her lips, she eagerly opened her mouth, latching on to the nipple. She flicked in with her tongue, laving it firmly, and then settled down and sucked gently and then harder. She purred again, suckling firmly on the swollen nipple, and she grinned around the nipple when she heard Clarke groan, and felt her dig her nails deeply into her shoulders.

She felt Clarke shift beneath her, and the walls of her sex relax slightly. And she shivered, barely controlling the trembling in her muscles when she felt Clarke’s hot, wet muscles start to pull her finger deeper into herself. She felt an answering tug deep in her belly, the heat curling harshly in her belly. She gently pushed further in, and then retreated, pulling and then pushing in again. She set a slow, steady pace, feeling Clarke start to tighten around her finger.

She fumbled briefly against the wetness of Clarke’s sex, trying to find her clit with her thumb, and she almost sighed in relief when she finally felt the swollen bud against the pad of her thumb. She pressed down, and pumped steadily in and out of Clarke’s wet sex, turning her finger slightly when she thrust back in.

“More, Leska, more,” muttered Clarke as she felt the heat shimmering underneath her skin. She could feel the tingling in her fingers and toes, and she wanted to cry as she strained against Lexa, pushing her body up into Lexa. She couldn’t help the guttural groan that Lexa tore from her chest when she felt her push another finger inside of her. Her body briefly tried to reject the intrusion, and her flesh stretched and burned, but she breathed deeply, willing her body to relax and welcome the fullness inside of her. Almost immediately she felt her inner muscles flutter and welcome Lexa deeper inside of her.

Lexa moved slightly off of Clarke, so her sex was resting against Clarke’s hip bone, and she couldn’t resist as she ground firmly against Clarke’s hip bone trying to relieve the ache that burned deeply inside of her own sex. She groaned at the full pressure of her hardened clit, and she ground it against Clarke, her muscles trembling at the burn that scorched through her.

She resisted the urge to take her own pleasure, and forced herself to pull back from grinding harder against Clarke. She tried to refocus on the overheated flesh pressing so intimately against her own, and she pushed a little deeper and harder inside of Clarke, marveling at the slick wetness of her sex. She wanted to bury her tongue inside of her, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go of the nipple in her mouth, or pull her fingers out of their warm haven. She never wanted to let go, never wanted to leave.

Clarke felt Lexa pull back, and she reached down and grabbed Lexa’s bottom, pulling her against her hip bone. “No, don’t stop. Do it,” she ordered. She huffed hard when heard Lexa grunt hard and push herself hard against Clarke again, grinding down hard, her hips jerking erratically.

Clarke groaned, holding Lexa firmly against herself. She could feel her muscles tighten around Lexa’s fingers, and the heat burned and tingled, and she groaned deep in her chest when she felt herself tighten and then the deep ache rush through her body. She jerked hard against Lexa’s thumb, her clit swelling, and she squirmed, pushing her hips down sharply, meeting Lexa’s sloppy thrusts, and warmth slipped through her muscles and covered her in liquid warmth, settling deep inside of her, all around her.

“With me, Leska. With me,” and she palmed Lexa’s bottom squeezing rhythmically to the jerk of the brunette’s hips against her, and she felt the hot wetness paint her skin, and her skin flushed against her, and the brunette groaned as all her muscles tightened against Clarke, and she felt the blessed relief soak through her muscles with a flush of cold heat, and she let her body fall back against Clarke.

The blonde’s muscles shook in exhaustion, and her hand fell to the bed with a thump, and her legs followed quickly. She lay there, splayed awkwardly, the sweat glistening on her skin, her heart thumping harshly against her ribs. She smiled at the feel of the harsh puffs of air against her breasts, and she shivered at the silken feel of wild curls splayed across her skin.

Lexa closed her eyes, her head resting on Clarke’s chest, the need for air, finally making her release Clarke’s swollen, bruised nipple. She barely mustered enough energy to kiss it apologetically for suckling so hard, and she smiled when she felt the tired chuckle rumble underneath her cheek.

Her heart was pounding in her ears, her swollen clit keeping time with the beat. But the blissful, tired warmth curled its way through her muscles, and with great reluctance she finally managed to roll herself over on to her back next to the blonde, worried she might be crushing her. She let herself relax for a moment, her mind settled, her skin hot, and her muscles twitching.

She brushed her hand across the furs, her fingers catching an edge of lace. She curled her fingers around the material, and held it up in the air for a moment, and then slowly brought it up to her face. She briefly eyed the lacy fabric in hands, admiring the handiwork, wishing for a moment that more of such things had survived the war. They certainly would make life worth more than just surviving.

She rubbed the pad of her thumb across the front of the bra, admiring the beautiful deep red. She smiled when she realized it matched the red of her sash. She pressed it lightly against her face, inhaling sharply, breathing in the faint trace of the blonde. She smiled at the feel of the lace scratching lightly at her lips, and she couldn’t help but kiss it. She blushed when she heard the soft chuckle beside her.

“You really like it, huh, my red bra of courage?”

“Sha, Klark. I do.” She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment, unsure if this was simply a one-time occurrence. She felt a pang of fear slither into her chest, and sorrow stung her tongue. She took a deep breath, wincing at her shaky exhale. She shifted so her shoulder pressed harder against the blonde’s.

“Klark, do you think…I mean…would you…” her voice trailed off, and she swallowed hard, wincing at the sudden dryness in her throat.

“Leska?” Clarke turned on her side so she could face the other girl, staring at the beautiful, delicate profile. She smiled and pressed her lips gently against the warm skin of her shoulder. “Just ask me, Leska.”

“Would you wear this again for me? Would you stay with me?” She tried not to hold her breath. She tried to say it nonchalantly. She tried to steady her voice. And she failed miserably on all points. And she smiled at the relief that swept through her, driving away any lingering doubts when she heard her reply.

“Of course, Leska. I will stay with you,” she slung an arm across Lexa’s chest, smiling when the older girl quickly reached up and clasped her arm with her own, the bra trapped between them.

“Would you wear something like for me?”

Lexa let her eyes flutter closed for a brief moment, the smile gently tugging at her lips. She turned on her side, still clutching the red bra in her hands. She faced the beautiful blonde, who was biting her lip nervously.

“For you, Klark? Anything. Anything,” she whispered as she gently pressed her lips against the warm, open mouth. And she let herself sink into the kiss, she let herself let go, she let herself find her home.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own the 100 characters. I do own Linus. He is one of my re-occuring regular original characters. Kaiden is an original character owned by Lordofdeathn. Jay, Aiden, Patric, Mac, and Gabrielas are original characters based loosely on actual people.
> 
> So...thoughts?

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the 100 characters. I do own Linus. He is one of my re-occuring regular original characters. Kaiden is an original character owned by Lordofdeathn. Jay, Aiden, Patric, Mac, and Gabrielas are original characters based loosely on actual people. 
> 
> So...thoughts?


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